


One of these Days...

by ThymeSprite



Series: Marvel Imagine Stories [11]
Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom
Genre: Bad Days, Depression, F/M, Post X-Men: First Class
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-02
Updated: 2015-04-02
Packaged: 2018-03-20 22:41:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3667905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThymeSprite/pseuds/ThymeSprite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On an especially bad day at the mansion, the reader is not sure she can take it anymore, but Hank does not want her to go anywhere.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One of these Days...

**Author's Note:**

> This oneshot was inspired by [this tumblr-blog](http://marvelximagine.tumblr.com)  
> "Imagine Hank is your best friend and one day you’re really upset and he kisses you to make you stop crying and you end up falling in love with him."

“I’ll… leave you to it then. And bring you supper later.”, you mumbled, hoping that Charles would hear you, but one glance told you that he was still ignoring you.

With a heavy sigh you closed the door to his bedroom and left him there in the semi-darkness, alone. Which was exactly what he wanted you to do, but you knew it was the very least you should do. But you… you just lacked the strength to go on.

Fighting to keep a sob from wrenching free, you leaned against the closed door and wiped away tears. The school was empty, closed. All teachers and students either drafted or gone. You balled your hands to fists and bit your lip in anger, helplessness. It was a disaster. People were dying in the war overseas and here at home, mutants were vanishing left, right and centre, either winding up dead or never to be found again. Your friends had all left you, all but for Hank and Charles, but Charles was… depressed, desperate, enraged…useless.

He was the only one who had any shot at helping find those missing mutants, the only one who could help young mutants with his school, but it had been taken from him, the chance it provided for mutants had been taken from all those mutants in need… and it had left him broken.

What the crippling shot to his back had not accomplished, a war and the government had. He was a broken man. And the only ones left to pick up the pieces were Hank and you.

For months now, you had brought Charles food, had made sure that he ate somewhat regularly, that he washed… but you had no strength left in you. There was nothing left to be done, the whole school was a lost cause, you thought while allowing your tears to fall as you made your way to the lab, to Hank. Normally, you would try to hide your own despair, seeing that Hank, too, had more than his fair share of it, but today, you made use of the empty halls and cried. You had to get it out.

But it did not help. Not anymore.

Gingerly picking your way down the stairway, an unwelcomed thought crossed your mind: You could leave. Pack your things and leave all this despair behind.

You were no mutant so there was no obstacle for you to find a job outside… and there was nothing you could do here, nothing at all. Charles was getting worse every day and Hank, although he tried heroically to take care of his friend with you, he was falling apart. You could see it in his eyes, his shaking hands, the painfully ugly dark circles under his eyes, he was pale… and he hardly smiled anymore.

Ruefully, you snorted, for really, who would be able to find happiness in these empty halls? No one. You knew that for a fact.

Squaring your shoulders as the door to the lab came into view, you stopped at a mirror to make sure Hank would not see that you had been crying. Of course, he was a genius, he would know anyway, but you did not want to put even more pressure on him by making it so plain obvious. He had enough on his mind already.

“Damn.”, you muttered when you saw yourself in the mirror. Sure, you saw yourself every day in the mirror, but… you had not realised just how you looked, how bad you looked. Tired, bloodshot eyes with dark circles around them, a pallid and hollow face, that was what you saw. You even looked worse for wear than Hank did most days.

Something had to be done about it and once again, you thought about leaving, you even almost, but not quite, heard a voice whisper these words, urging you to leave.

You quickly and violently shook your head. No, you could not just leave, you had…what, exactly? Two friends that both were too desperate to do anything with their powers while you were utterly powerless yourself.

Angry with yourself, you pushed that thought away and quickly refreshed your makeup to look decent again. Well, at least presentable. When you did, even though you were not happy with the result of your efforts, you turned away from the mirror and approached the lab, seeing Hank work tirelessly in it. You sighed, because you knew what he was working on. The wretched serum for Charles, also himself.

You hated that thing, but how could you say that? You did not mind Hank’s “monkey feet”, as he referred to them, but he did. You knew you had no right to interfere with how he decided to handle his mutation, but you hated to see him so unhappy, especially so unhappy with himself, because in your eyes, he was a genius, your best friend… your everything nowadays.

But, of course you did not say that, instead you settled for an unsophisticated: “Hey.”

“Huh?”, Hank mumbled, looking up from the beaker in his hand, squinting at you and then cracking an almost-smile, “Oh, hi.”

In silence, you moved next to him and saw that he really was working on the serum. Blasted thing. You liked that it made Hank feel better about himself, his mutation and his body in general, but you hated what it did to Charles. It made him… crippled. More than his injury ever could.

“How is…?”, Hank began, but his question trailed off, yet you nonetheless knew what he was enquiring and you unhappily replied, “Unchanged. He is sitting in his room, brooding, not saying a word except for the occasional sigh or disgusted grunt.”

Hank grimaced, but did not comment and why should he? You both knew that this would have had to be the answer to his question. It had been for weeks now, despite the serum.

Or… because of it.

“Hank.”, you whispered lowly, keeping your eyes on the liquid that was slowly changing its colour to that tone of orangey brown you had come to hate, “This…needs to stop.”

For a long moment, he was silent, but you felt his gaze on you, you however, refused to look at him.

“W-what… what do you mean?”, he then tentatively muttered and you shot him an angry glance, “This serum. It’s not a cure. It just…makes it even worse.”

“I assure you, it works.”, Hank said and you nodded, but he went on, “I am not… blue at the moment and Charles’ legs work, he…”

When you interrupted him softly, your voice was a flat and almost inaudible murmur: “What use is it if he can walk, but doesn’t go anywhere?”

Nevertheless it made Hank fall silent immediately. He started a sentence, but ended up opening and closing his mouth without a sound, looking very much like a desperate fish stranded on desert sand.

“Never mind.”, you gave in, dropping the argument before it had even begun, then you settled to work.

“Uhm…”, Hank tried again, but you did not really listen, instead you got another beaker out, to get the next batch started.

“It…”, he began another attempt at explaining, but you cut him off, your gaze and voice weary, “It helps him walk and it helps you be “normal” or at least as “normal” as you can possible be. It is what the two of you want.”

You started the preparation by gathering ingredients when Hank’s voice, low, wary and quivering, reached you with a question: “But?”

“But…”, you heaved a sigh and turned around to him, a measuring jar in your hand, “But… it is not what the two of you need. What… others need of you.”

He sighed, weariness and sadness in his eyes, his gaze turned away from you, but he did not speak. And neither did you.

Instead, you settled to work in silence, trying to close yourself off, to not feel for a moment…otherwise you knew you would break down. The situation you were in was not healthy, you knew that just as well as you knew that you could not keep it up much longer. And your shaking hands were a telltale sign of that.

You clenched your teeth, determined to pull through… when the measuring jar slipped through your shaking fingers and crashed onto the floor, shards flying everywhere.

“Are you okay?”, Hank asked, genuine concern in his voice and he was at your side immediately.

“Yeah, sure.”, you said and crouched down to clean up, but Hank stopped you. When you frowned at him, he said: “You’re shaking. Let me do this for you.”

You did not want that, but you did not argue. Instead you mumbled: “I’ll be in my room.”

“Alright.”, Hank acknowledged and when you left, you did not look back. Again, the thought crossed your mind that you should do exactly that, pack up, leave and never look back, but you knew that you could not do that. Not to Charles, not to his cause even if he had lost sight of it… and especially not to Hank.

Your tears were flowing again and this time, you did not stop them. They flowed freely, wetted your face and your shirt while you numbly walked to your room where you simply sat down on the bed, staring into nothingness.

Even though you refused to think, your mind was acting on its own accord. You should leave, you knew it. It would certainly be better for you, but you could not bring yourself to even get up from the bed, could not even bring yourself to wipe away your tears. You were powerless, alone, miserable… and you were absolutely sure that it would stay like that for the rest of your days.

A sound disturbed your thoughts, but you did not recognise it, did not care, and you only understood that it had been a knock on your door when Hank entered your room, quietly saying your name: “Hey…c-can I do something? Anything?”

“No.”, you whispered, shaking your head, “This is hopeless, the school, the war, all the missing mutants, Charles… and me. Hopeless.”

“It’s…not.”, Hank weakly objected, but you shot him an angry glance that made him wince. Nevertheless he stepped closer, looking intently at you and said: “It is…bleak, yes, but we have to believe there is hope.”

“Where?”, you scoffed and shook your head, “Let’s face it, there isn’t. We don’t have any teachers or student left, for that matter, our professor is ability-wise knocked flat on his ass. But he is able to walk, oh joy, he just isn’t going anywhere, not even out of his room. We try, Hank, but we’re lost, out of options.”

He blinked at you, uneasiness palpable in his figure when he stutteringly asked: “Are you… thinking about…leaving?”

Dead on target, wow. You had not thought he had it in him.

“I am.”, you confirmed and saw utter shock on his face, which only made you scoff as you jumped to your feet, staring at him, “What? I’m useless here! I’m no use to Charles or to you, to any of the things you have tried to do in this school.”

“You are a teacher…”, Hank said, but you derisively waved that comment aside, “In an empty school. You two would not miss me here for I can’t help you. Not that I would be of much use elsewhere but this…this…hopelessness. We’re done.”

Your tears were flowing again and you did not bother to try and stop them. You wrapped your arms around your waist, hoping to keep yourself together, to not fall apart completely, but it was no use. As soon as the first sob had wrenched free, more followed, tears and hiccups. All the anger and despair you had had pent up for months had decided to get out right in this moment.

“Hush, don’t… don’t cry.”, Hank asked you, but you could not even think of a reply. Hank put his hands on your shoulders, but you did not look up at him, you tried to hide your face as best as you could.

That was until Hank cupped your cheeks in his warm palms and gently made you look up. You almost could not see him through the veil of tears clouding your vision, but you knew it was him, always there, always trying, but doomed to fail as you were yourself, that was what you thought until your mind stopped dead in its tracks… because Hank kissed you.

It was short, but sweet, gentle, but desperate. And utterly surprising.

“Please don’t leave.”, Hank then pleaded, “Don’t. I…I need you here. Yes, it is all falling apart, but you have kept it all together, you are the only reason I am still here, the only reason why Charles has not given up completely. Yet. Please, please don’t leave me.”

You were stunned speechless, not so much by his words, but his actions. He had kissed you, your best friend, Hank… the man you had loved for far longer than you dared admit. Your mind needed time to process all that.

“Umm…”, Hank mumbled, then cast down his eyes, but you only understood what he was thinking when he took a step away from you.

“Wait!”, you said and grabbed his shirt to hold him near you, “I… how can I say…? Oh, screw explanations.”

With these words, you yanked him down to your height and pressed a firm kiss to his lips, taking him completely by surprise. When you let Hank go again, he was panting, blushing and blinking rapidly, so you chuckled: “Don’t you pass out on me, sweetheart.”

“N-no…”, he mumbled, then licked his lips nervously and when he looked at you again, his eyes went wide. You could not help but grin, for you knew exactly what he was thinking, despite not being a telepath or any kind of mutant at all, so you said, calmly, but grinning crookedly: “Yes, Hank, you did really just kiss me. And I kissed you.”

“Good to know.”, he breathed and slowly returned your tentative smile, before his smile fell and he asked, nervously, “So, does that mean…?”

“I’m not leaving.”, you nodded and he exhaled with audible relief, yet you added, “I never could have left anyway, I could not have… abandoned you and Charles just like that. I couldn’t. I don’t want to. I never did…and I wanna be with you.”

“That’s especially good to know.”, Hank told you and slowly, as if he was not sure you would let him, he pulled you closer to hug you. It felt good, being held. Better than anything had felt for the last few weeks.

Hank pressed a kiss to the top of your head and whispered into your hair: “Please do not scare me like that again. Please don’t.”

“I won’t.”, you told him and he only tightened his embrace for a moment before letting go of you.

“So…what are we going to do?”, he then asked and when you breathed, unsure of what to do, he added, “Because I agree with you, this… is hopeless. We have to bring change about, somehow. But… I’m at a loss.”

“So am I, I’m afraid.”, you said, but then squared your shoulders and put your hands onto his chest, gently, but firmly, “But that sure as hell won’t stop us. First thing, we have to make Charles believe again. In his idea, his abilities. He’s better than he gives himself credit for.”

“Agreed.”, Hank nodded, but then his shoulders slumped down visibly, “But…how?”

“I don’t know.”, you honestly said, “Still, we… hang on.”

There was a sound, something that should not be there because the whole mansion was empty, but you nevertheless heard footsteps outside the window.

Quickly, you dashed to the window you had left open earlier and peered out, seeing a tall, burly man approach the main gate.

“We have a visitor.”, you told Hank warily and then squinted your eyes. He seemed familiar…

You swallowed a cry of surprise when you recognised him. What on Earth was James Howlett doing at the mansion?

You had no idea, but you knew you would find out sooner than you cared for. However, with Hank at your side, anything was possible, maybe even getting Charles back on track.


End file.
